


Once upon a Time in New York City

by 0positiv



Series: Once upon a Crossover [2]
Category: Forever (TV), Queen of Swords
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0positiv/pseuds/0positiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of "Once upon a Time in Spanish California".</p><p>Sometimes the past catches up with you, for some people it happens sooner than they'd feared, for some later than they'd hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation in the crossover universe I started in [Once upon a Time in Spanish California](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5867560/chapters/13523950). It will help if you read that one first ;)  
> Also you should have watched all episodes of Forever before reading either because spoilers.

“Good morning, Dr. Farber, how are we doing today?”

The physician checked the read outs from the various monitors next to the patient's bed. It was still always astounding to him how many different machines and monitors and infusions were clustered around intensive care beds. Electronic nurses watching over his patients around the clock, chiming alarms at the slightest provocation.

“Blood pressure looks slightly elevated, was Nurse Jones on night duty again?”

He winked at the man lying motionless in bed.

“She's a sight for sore eyes, is she not? Heart rate is looking good, ventilator working perfectly, a nurse will be around shortly to help you with your morning toilet and to shift you around a bit, wouldn't want you to get any sores.”

And what astounded him even more was how there were machines for nearly all bodily functions. It nearly seemed like every organ could be replicated, lungs, heart, kidney, stomach and intestines, there were machines for all of it. The only thing no machine in the world could replace was the human brain.

He smiled into the patient's eyes and patted him on the arm. The doctor's face only showed true sympathy and frustration at being unable to do anything to really help this man. There was no cure for locked-in syndrome. “I shall check on you again later, shall I?”

He made a few notes on the clip board attached to the patient's bed then walked towards the door. Reaching over towards the little box next to it he pumped a bit of disinfectant onto his hand and thoroughly coated both hands in it as he bumped the door open with elbow and shoulder.

Arriving at the nurses' station he gave the four nurses there a smile. “Good morning, ladies and gentleman, are we ready for another exciting day of intensive care work then?”

The head nurse gave him a long-suffering look over the top of her reading glasses.

“Has somebody put too much sugar into their coffee again, doctor? I swear, in all my years, I've never met any doctor who was this happy at 7 am, and after half a week of night shifts too.”

Bernard, the only male nurse on the team, scoffed.

“You should be thankful that he's happy. Wasn't one week of working with Dr. Franklin enough for you? I swear, if I'd had to worked with him even one more day I wouldn't have been responsible for my actions.”

And after a cheeky grin and a sidelong glance at their student nurse, who was very deliberately not looking at the doctor too much he added: “Also doesn't hurt that Doc Bob's much more handsome than grumpy old Franklin.”

“That is highly inappropriate, Bernard,” exclaimed the head nurse with a shocked expression.

“No, no, it's alright nurse Simmons, I am quite aware that I am much too handsome for this profession, it's my curse.”

The doctor put his hand to his heart and tried to strike a dramatic and long-suffering pose while doing his best not to burst out laughing.

It earned him a smile from nurse Simmons despite herself and made the student nurse blush with a startlingly bright shade of red.

“Oh, off with you, don't encourage them! Don't you have patient files to update or something?”

Mission 'Cheering up the team' accomplished Doc Bob saluted cheekily and vanished into his office to tackle his next enemy: Paperwork, the eternal Sisyphean task of any doctor.

 

“Ah, Doctor Morgan, have you been visiting your friend? It is so great of you to come by now and then, poor Dr. Farber doesn't seem to have any other visitors.”

Henry turned around at the cheerful voice and offered his hand for a shake.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Heller. I trust everything is going well with our patient?”

They shook hands and his fellow physician invited Henry into his office. It had become their routine whenever they met on one of Henry's visits. Most of the intensive care doctors would keep him up to date but Dr. Heller always tried to make time for a bit of chit chat.

“Can I offer you anything? Coffee? Tea? Though I fear the tea isn't really all that great here. Also, how many times have I told you to call me Bob? Us expatriates must stick together, don't we?”

Henry declined the offer of coffee or tea and seated himself in the visitor chair opposite the other man. They had both been delighted to find a fellow Englishman in New York with whom to moan about the terrible state the colonies were in.

“You tell me to call you Bob yet you go on calling me Doctor Morgan. Do make up your mind.”

Bob chuckled while sorting through the pile of patient files on his desk.

“Yes, very true, _Henry_ , now...where did I put it? I swear I only just...Aha! There it is, the silly thing was hiding!”

He pulled out one file from the bottom of the pile and only long practice at this task made sure that he managed it without spilling the rest of the untidy and tilting heap all over the floor.

Bob opened the file in the middle of the desk and pointed to the relevant graphs and figures.

“We run blood tests on our patients every day, as you know, and for a few days Dr. Farber has shown a bit of an elevation in his leukocytes, then as of today CRP caught up with things and is slightly elevated as well. He's not got a fever so far but his blood pressure it a bit too high sometimes. I think I'll have to give him some prophylactic antibiotics to see if we can't stop this infection he seems to be developing before it actually becomes a problem.”

Henry nodded along with the explanation, his face showing slight creases of worry between his eyebrows and on his forehead.

“Yes, it does seem like he's developing an infection. Might is be his lungs? I am sure the nurses here are very competent at their job and I don't want to imply that they aren't but do they regularly suction his air ways? Change the tracheotomy tube often enough?”

Bob merely pointed to the relevant notes the nurses had made after completing each of those tasks in the file.

“I'll have some aspirate sent to microbiology for cultures and for testing for antibiotic resistances, just as a precaution. I don't think there is anything to worry about but since he's your patient as well as mine I thought you should know about every change.”

Henry nodded again, trying to stifle the rising panic at the idea of Adam dying any time soon.

 _Not yet, please, not yet. I don't have a contingency plan in place yet. I need more time. He can't be free yet._ _He’ll want revenge. He’ll come after me as soon as he can…he’ll come after Abe and Jo. I have to find a way to stop him. But how?_

"Are you alright, Henry? You've gone a bit pale."

The worried voice brought Henry out of his frantic thoughts.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. It's just...well, I know of course that he is very vulnerable to infections right now, but I didn't think I'd have to deal with this so soon."

He gave the man on the other side of the table a tired smile.

Bob nodded understandingly. He was used to dealing with friends and family who suddenly realised that their loved ones might actually die. Being a physician himself did clearly not make Henry immune to this self-deception. Though Henry was sure those people usually feared the death of the patient for completely different reasons than he did.

"It's not a serious issue right now. The antibiotics might yet take care of it before it gets too much of a nuisance. But you need to remember that he's been on a ventilator for a little more than a year and that he's never been completely stable in all of that time. There is a reason why he's still in intensive care."

Henry took a few deliberate breaths to calm himself down fully. He still had a little time, he reminded himself, Adam wasn’t dying just yet.

"Yes, I know. And you and the others here have been doing a fantastic job in keeping him alive and reasonably comfortable. Thank you. And now I fear I must take my leave."

With a slightly forced smile Henry got up to leave and the other doctor escorted him to the door.

"We've got your number, we'll let you know should anything change."

“Thank you, Doctor…Bob. I really appreciate it.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Henry? Henry! Are you even listening to me?”

Blinking confusedly at the suddenly harsh voice Henry shifted his gaze from the body in front of him to Detective Martinez.

“I am sorry, Jo, I seem to have been a bit preoccupied. What was it you were saying?”

Jo had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot impatiently, never a good sign in Henry's experience.

“Ok, out with it, what is wrong? You've been distracted all week, distracted and nervous.”

Henry stood up and took off his gloves. He had finished the examination of their victim – multiple fractures, legs, arms, skull, just as one would expect when a pedestrian gets hit by a car, nothing fancy for him to find at all – and something about the colour of the staring and sightless eyes had reminded him of Adam. And that, of course, had brought on another round of panicked thoughts and worries. He sighed and wondered how much to tell Jo.

She already knew about his immortality, about Adam's immortality, and about the game of cat and mouse that had been going on between them.

She knew why Adam was in hospital.  _So why not tell her this bit as well, then_ , he conceded with another sigh.

“Earth to Henry, you're still not talking. Sighing doesn't count.”

He thought he saw a bit of worry shine through the growing frustration on Jo's face.

“Lets talk in the car, shall we? This is a rather sensitive matter.”

By which, Jo would know, he meant 'immortal business'.

“Fine, you were done here anyway, weren't you?”

“Yes, they can bag the body and bring it to the morgue, I'll continue the examination there.”

The way to the car wasn't nearly long enough for Henry's liking as he was still sorting through and discarding possible ways of voicing his fear to Jo. There really was no good way of saying:  _The immortal sociopath I condemned to living hell for over a year might soon come back for revenge._

As soon as both car doors were closed Jo turned towards him with an expectant look on her face.

“Is this private enough?”

He nodded and realized he was fiddling with his pocket watch. He deliberately put it away and looked over at Jo.

“It's Adam.”

Jo nodded.   
“Your murderous stalker buddy, who you said was taken care of and in hospital?”

“Yes, though he is no _buddy_ of mine, as I am sure he would agree. Actually I might be his enemy number one, after what I did to him. Which, believe me, is a truly frightening thought.”

Jo put her hand on his arm.

“Henry, you're babbling. Take a deep breath then tell me what's wrong.”

Henry did as he was told and breathed in deeply, trying to calm his racing heart and his fluttering panicked thoughts.

“He might come after me again,” he finally managed to say. Seeing the confusion on Jo's face he added: “He's developed pneumonia, the antibiotics aren't working, it seems to be a very resistant strain of bacteria. He's dying, Jo, and if he dies he'll be free to come after me and anyone I care about. And I have yet to come up with another way of containing him securely, of even catching him. How do you catch someone who is so unafraid of death and pain that he'd kill himself anyway possible just to get out of a situation?”

It all poured out of him in a frantic rush, words running together until he was surprised Jo even understood half of what he was saying.

“Slow down, slow down. He's dying? And since he's like you when he dies he'll pop up, good as new, somewhere in the river?”

Henry nodded, his face looking tired and drawn.

“And you think that when that happens, he'll come after you again?”

Another nod. Henry rubbed his stinging eyes with two fingers. He had not had a good nights rest for days, ever since the hospital called to tell him about Adam's deteriorating condition.

“After me and the people I care about, which would be you and Abe. Maybe even Lucas and Detective Hanson and anyone else I work with. No one is safe if he gets out Jo, and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing at all!”

Jo grabbed his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“We'll think of something, Henry. You found a way to beat him before, you'll think of something else this time too.”

Henry returned the pressure with his own hand, taking comfort in the fact that she would stand by his side, that he wouldn't have to deal with it all alone this time. He patted their clasped hands with his other one then raised them to his face to breath a kiss onto the back of hers.

“Thank you for your unfounded believe in my abilities to deal with unstoppable immortal sociopaths but I fear that it was sheer luck that gave me the opportunity to confine him like this last time. He won't let it happen again.”

He let go of her hand and started fiddling with his watch again.

“You're basically a genius, Henry. I'll play sounding board and we'll figure something out. He's not dead yet, is he? So we still have a little time.”

Henry bit his lip and after a short internal debate he asked: “When I get the call...that he's vanished from hospital...if I asked you then to take a long vacation somewhere that's not here...”

Jo's determined face stopped him.

“Not a chance in hell, Henry. I won't run away and leave you at the mercy of this nut case. I don't leave partners or friends behind, deal with it.”

She turned away from him to start the car and drive off, a clear sign that she considered the topic closed.

Despite the renewed worry Henry's face relaxed into a smile. He would not have to face it alone. Maybe Jo could even help convince Abe to leave town, maybe visit that ex-wife of his for a week or four?

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Have you heard about the weird thing that just happened in intensive care, Bob?”

Looking up from tying his shoe laces Bob's eyes met the very unappetising sight of a rather large butt hardly covered by rather small pants wiggling on the other end of the narrow room.

He pulled a face and looked back to his shoes. Changing rooms were never his favourite place on earth.

“No, Jim, I have not heard any weird thing. I've been in the ER all day, we were very busy.”

The butt finally hidden by a pair of slightly too tight jeans Jim turned around and smirked down at his colleague. He was clearly waiting for Bob to ask him.

Sighing he complied: “Fine, I'll bite: What happened in the ICU that has got you all a-flutter with excitement?”

Jim stepped around the bench in the middle of the room then sat down on it facing Bob.

“Someone stole a body. Or, well, a patient, but since the patient was as good as dead it's really the same thing. And nobody saw anything. Nothing, nada. Now how would that work, in ICU, where you see every room from the nurses' station and everyone coming in or leaving has to walk past them, too?”

With a sinking feeling of foreboding Bob asked: “Which patient?”

Jim, who was a urologist and hardly ever had reason to come to the ICU, just shrugged. “I don't know the name, but they say he had locked-in syndrome. Has been there about a year? Surely you know him, you've got ICU duty often enough. Anyway, they were expecting him to die some time soon anyway so when the heart alarm sounded they didn't really rush to his room, more like walk there quickly but when they got there he was just gone, vanished. Bedding and all the tubes and electrodes were lying on the bed hardly disturbed but the patient was no longer there. Like he'd just been beamed up by the Enterprise.”

“Oh dear God.”

With his face gone white as a sheet Bob jumped up and quickly pulled his leather jacked and motorcycle helmet out of his locker before banging it shut. He nearly ran out of the room, just mumbling a hasty “I need to go” to his confused colleague who was left scratching his head and wondering about over-excited ER doctors.

 

Henry, Jo and Abe had split the river into three section on their hastily acquired map of New York City. They would each cover their section, carefully, from a safe distance away, keeping an eye out for any commotion or any butt-naked murdering sociopath climbing out of the water.

But even as they set out Henry knew it would take them to long to get into position. Even in the space of time it took from the moment a very distraught nurse called Henry to tell him that Doctor Farber had inexplicably gone missing and reassure him that the police had already been informed and that they were doing everything in their power to find him again to Henry hanging up the phone Adam could have gotten out of the river.

Henry had thanked the nurse, sounding much less shaken than he felt, then he had immediately called Abe and Jo despite knowing they would be too late.

 _It has been too long already_ , he thought. _Much t_ _oo long._ If Adam had not been held up by police or concerned citizens when climbing out of the water he would be long gone by now. Slowly riding his bicycle along the street, one eye on the river the other on where he was going, Henry tried to come up with anything he could do to find Adam. But the other immortal had centuries of experience in hiding and living under the radar and Henry didn't even know where to start.

Before he had finished with his section of river both Jo and Abe had called in to tell him that all was quiet on their ends. And no one had seen a naked man running away from the river either. Henry had to stop his bike and lean against a wall because he was starting to shake uncontrollably.  _Panic attack,_ he diagnosed distractedly, before the world started to go grey around the edges and he felt like he couldn't breath. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears it even drown out the ubiquitous traffic noise of the city. His fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms Henry rode out the panic attack. He was drenched in sweat and felt like he'd just run a marathon when it was over. 

He had just pulled out his phone to call for Jo or Abe to pic him up – he really didn't feel able to ride his bike all the way back to the shop – when a motorcycle roared past him. What first drew his eyes was that only one person of the two riding it wore a helmet. The other thing was that he recognised the passenger.

Adam gave him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave as he roared past. Henry nearly dropped the phone.

 

He had been driving up and down the river for a while before he decided to give up on it. Stopping his bike at a random stretch of road he took off his helmet and scratched his head. It had been a long shot, really, because the river was rather far away and with the traffic in New York being what it was there was no way he would make it there in time.

He couldn't stop the feeling of guilt and the nagging voice rattling around in his head telling him he could have done something, he could – and  _should_ – have helped.

He couldn't shake this feeling that he should have known, somehow, that he missed something, that it was partially his fault.

Pushing a hand through his sweaty hair –  _I really need a haircut –_ he was just about to put his helmet back on when a voice from behind startled him.

“Good evening. It is so nice to finally properly meet you.”

He twisted around in the saddle as much as he could while still keeping the motorcycle upright. The voice didn't sound familiar but as he saw the naked man stride out from behind a rather large bush he also knew why.

He had actually known this man for over a year but in all that time he had never heard him speak because Dr. Farber had been incapable of speech.

Quickly scrambling off his bike, putting it on the side stand he pulled a pair of scrubs from the helmet compartment. Holding them out to the naked man he averted his eyes while the other dressed.

“I am so, so sorry, if I had known...if I'd had any idea...I'd never have let it go on for this long. I can't even imagine what is must have been like for you...I'm so sorry.”

A hand on his arm stopped his babbling.

“Yes, you said that already. I do think you and I should have a long talk, somewhere that's not here.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Is this a bad time?”

Henry whirled around from pacing the show room of the antiques store to face the man who had just entered.

“Montoya, I am so sorry, I completely forgot. Can we reschedule?”

With all the excitement and frustration of their failed hunt for Adam Henry had forgotten that Luis wanted to stop by the shop this evening for drinks and a game or two of chess.

It had been a semi-regular thing for the last few months, whenever their busy schedules permitted.

Henry found that talking to his fellow immortal was both enjoyable and a strange kind of stress relieve. Who else could he compare past death experiences with? For all his moral short comings Montoya had turned out to be a very good confidant and sounding board. They shared the same affliction and hence the same problems with day to day life. Things mortals never had to deal with. And having been brought up in a very Catholic environment Montoya sometimes brought twists to their discussions that Henry would never even have considered. For example the Spaniard seemed to have given some serious thought to whether he was being possessed by a demon or if their immortality, their dying over and over again just to be reborn, was a kind of test of their faith.

Henry, who was much more scientifically minded and had never really taken to any kind of religion, sometimes had trouble following the Spaniards train of thought on these discussions. At first he had wanted to scoff at Montoya's arguments and asked him whether they weren't far too old for fairytales but he had seen by the growing anger on his guest's face that Montoya actually still believed in God.

_What a strange pair we are,_ Henry thought. Yet for some reason they got along remarkably well. 

And even though they'd shared their most awkward deaths and rebirths and forged something like a friendship Henry had yet to even mention Adam's existence to Luis.

Something he was never sure he ever actually wanted to do. But now he had run out of time, a decision had to be made right this instance.

To tell him and risk Adam and Montoya teaming up? Maybe having Montoya even seek out the older immortal?

Or to not tell him and risk Adam by some random fluke of chance finding out about Montoya and cornering the Spaniard. Would the outcome be better or worse if Montoya was unaware of their fellow immortal? Which cause of action had the smaller potential for catastrophe?

Henry realise he had been quiet for too long, had stared at Montoya too hard, because his guest did not speak and did not leave but merely gave him a questioning and suspicious look.

“Is there anything I should be aware of, Dr. Morgan? I have never seen you this out of sorts. Something I can assist you with, perhaps?”

Henry sighed, something he had cause to do a lot lately, he realised.

“You better come downstairs, explaining this needs a stiff drink and absolute privacy.”

 

“ _Madre de Dios,_ Doctor Morgan, I'd never have thought you had it in you. Didn't that go against your physician's code of honour? "

Henry thought Montoya looked well and truly surprised and there was also a slightly disquieting appreciative gleam in his eyes.

"Believe me, if there had been any other way I would never have condoned such torture but he didn't leave me any choice."

Luis took a sip of his cognac.

"Remind me to watch my neck should I ever accidentally put pressure on you. "

His tone made it sound like a jest but there was also a calculated wariness behind it that hadn't been there before, like Luis was suddenly assessing him as a threat as well as an ally.

Henry remembered all too well what happened to people who Colonel Luis Ramirez Montoya considered a threat. More often than not they ended up dead. Or at least that had been the case back in Santa Helena. Here and now Montoya would have to be a lot more careful to not get caught. Henry did hope that rather than Luis getting very good at hiding dead bodies the Spaniard had found a less deadly way to deal with opposition, yet unless they could tie any murders to Montoya he'd never know for sure. Henry very much doubted he'd get a straight answer were he to ask him outright.

“So, what do you intend to do about your...I think one could call him a 'stalker' in this modern parlance, no? Are you sure he will come after you? Maybe you frightened him away?”

Henry didn't have to think long about this. It was a question he had asked himself already.

“No, he's not someone you could frighten off. He's 2000 years old, Luis, and he's been through unimaginable torture time and again. Yet I think all it did was make him angry, angry at those who hurt him, angry at the world, angry at his condition. And then he found out that he wasn't alone. He's got a fixation on me that I think will be very hard to break. And now not only have I disappointed him, I've attacked him, put him into living hell for a year.”

Henry rubbed his tired eyes then pushed his hair back with a defeated expression.

“I am sure he'll retaliate in one way or another and it would not be beneath him to use the people I care about for this. Yet I can persuade neither Jo nor Abe to leave town. I need to find him and find a way to stop him before he hurts either of them, Luis.”

Montoya drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair with a thoughtful expression.

“Maybe it is a good thing, that your police detective did not leave town. The police have such marvellous resources nowadays. He will need money, this Adam, will he not? And you know of at least one of his aliases. Maybe through transfers of money you can find others. He can not have held a bank account under the same name for 2000 years. Yet he would have had to shift his money from his old name to the new one somehow. Also this city is full of traffic cameras. Can your detective not get you the footage of all the cameras near the river for the stretch of time when he might have crawled out off it?”

Henry nodded, he'd thought of that as well.

“Yes, Jo is already working on getting us the footage. It can't be through an official request because we don't have an open case that would require it but she has friends in the police department and she's currently calling in some favours. Sadly favours would not be enough to get us access to bank records, we'd need a court order for that. Banks don't just hand over their clients' details to any policeman – or woman – who asks nicely.”

Luis lifted an eyebrow, his face assuming a look of surprised innocence that looked too well practised to be even close to genuine.

“Who said we necessarily had to ask nicely? There are ways to get any information one requires about anyone if you are willing to pay the right amount of money. I have a few humble contacts myself, some of them are very good with computers. If you give me a list of this Adam's aliases I shall see if I can't find someone who can get us the information we need.”

Henry opened his mouth to protest against this clearly illegal course of action but he merely shut his mouth again without saying a word and shook his head with a sigh. _Whatever is necessary to catch Adam, illegal or legal, I can't risk him getting away, going into hiding, to plot his revenge._

He wrote Adam's name on a slip of paper and gave it to Luis. The Spaniard took a look at it then stored it away in a pocket of the coat he'd just put on. He pulled on his gloves while watching Henry's worried face.

“I shall let you know if I can find someone who will get you the information as quickly as possible.”

Henry held out his hand to Montoya.

“Thank you, Luis, truly. Adam isn't your problem and you would have any right to stay out of this. I very much appreciate your offer to help.”

Montoya gave the proffered hand a short shake then when Henry would have let go tightened his grip, his face intense.

“You should also consider another reason why it is to our advantage that your friends did not run away. As any hunter could tell you a successful trap needs must be set with the right bait for the game you're hunting.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Is there anything else I can do? Anyone I should call? Or anywhere I should take you?”

Nervously fiddling with his coffee cup Bob watched the other man wolf down a cheeseburger in record time. It seemed like being fed intravenously for about a year really left you with a craving for junk food. Or most likely a craving for any more or less solid food available. This place had merely been the first restaurant far away enough from the river that Farber had felt safe to stop at.

Even though Farber had been hardly more than skin and bones when lying in his hospital bed - physiotherapy or no physiotherapy not moving for a year lead to some serious muscle atrophy - his rebirth seemed to have restored his body to a state when he was much more fit, as Bob had seen when he'd handed Farber the scrubs. Going by the law of conservation of energy Farber's body could not just create muscles out of thin air – or water, one would assume – so he must also have seriously depleted what little reserves his body had left which would also explain the craving for high calorie food.

After washing the burger down with some coke Farber shook his head.

“There is no one, at least no one I want to talk to right away. I have a condo, it's not far away. I would be very obliged if you could take me there. We should also talk about how you knew where to look for me but that can wait until we are at my home.”

Reaching for some chicken wings Farber seemed very calm for someone who'd just died and then found himself alive and naked in a river which made Bob think that the other man had known of his immortality already.

How old was he? How did he really end up in a waking coma, lying in hospital?  _Who_ was he really? So many questions were chasing each other around in his mind yet like Farber Bob knew that a fast food restaurant was much too public a place to talk about things like living forever. They had already drawn enough attention because Farber was wearing hospital scrubs.

And yet...and yet, it was so very hard to keep his curiosity in check. Bob was nearly bouncing in his chair with the need to know. But care of his patient came first before any selfish desire of having his questions answered.

He put one hand on Farber's wrist when the man reached for another bit of deep fried chicken.

“Maybe you should take this a bit more slowly. Your stomach needs to adjust, we don't want you to get sick.”

Farber smiled at him, a real amused smile, an expression that looked strangely foreign on his square face, like he did not have much cause for it in the past.

“I appreciate your concern, _doctor_ , but I am no stranger to starvation and, as you are aware, I do know a little bit about medicine myself. I swear I won't throw up on you.”

Bob pulled a face.

“Thank you so much for that mental image.”

Farber laughed and pulled out his wrist from under the doctor's hand.

“You don't even know how long it has been since someone showed genuine concern for my well-being. It must have been over 30 years by now...but I digress.”

He nibbled on the piece of chicken in his hand but to Bob's relieve was eating much more slowly now.

Bob stole a few fries and even though he had tried his hardest to keep his questions to himself he thought that et least one of them was harmless enough to discuss in public. For a few seconds he tried to think of the best way to frame a specific question that had been foremost in his mind. Pulling a face at the taste but swallowing the lukewarm fries anyway he decided that there was really no better way than straight forward.

“Does Henry Morgan know about your...condition?”

Bob saw the other man stiffen slightly at the mention of Henry's name then resume eating like he wasn't bothered at all. Only a slight tightening of the muscles around his eyes betrayed that he felt anything in relation to the man.

When Farber still didn't reply after another second Bob filled the increasingly uncomfortable silence with some hasty explanation.

“It's just that he _said_ he was your friend and your doctor and he _seemed_ very concerned about your condition. He also visited you a lot, and he was the only one who ever visited you. What's really making me wonder is that he was so adamant that he be immediately informed about any change in your condition. And now I wonder if he really was concerned for a completely different reason than I'd first thought. Or maybe I'm just imagining things and he really is just a friend of yours.”

Farber sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Do you always talk this much when you're uncomfortable? Yes, I know Henry Morgan but I would beg your patience on any further discussion of him until we are somewhere private. I am sure you can understand why.”

Bob took a deep breath.

“Yes, I'm sorry, it's just this is all a bit overwhelming right now. And I can't even guess what it must be like for you. Are you finished with that?”

Farber had pushed the remaining fries away and was wiping his hands on one of the paper napkins.

“Yes, I am finished. I am not quite hungry enough anymore to eat cold french fries tasting of stale fat.”

Bob chuckled as they got up to go back outside to his bike.

“They were pretty awful, weren't they? Never thought I'd miss proper English chips with some vinegar but they just don't make them like that over here. Now where is this condo of yours?”

Farber gave him an address and some rather detailed instructions on how to get there from their current location. Bob put on his helmet and started the bike then waited for Farber to get on the back before driving off. Traffic notwithstanding it shouldn't take them more than fifteen minutes to get there.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“This is around the time you saw him, there he is, that bike on the other side of the street.”

Henry leaned closer to the monitor and the frozen video frame displayed on it. The time stamp was about right and there was a motorcycle with two people on it, one clearly without a helmet and wearing what looked like hospital scrubs.

Jo had been spending most of her time off these last two days going over the traffic camera footage to try and find out where Adam went with whoever gave him a ride on that motorcycle. If they hadn't had that starting point of where and when Henry had seen them it would have been like looking for a needle in a haystack with the amount of traffic and the amount of cameras she'd have had to go through to cover all of the river. With that starting point it was more like finding a needle in a few straws of hay scattered on the ground after someone took the rest of the stack away.

Then she had called Henry to show him what she found and thus this late evening found them both sitting in a too small dark room with the glowing monitor illuminating their tense faces.

Henry had never quite paid attention to the amount of traffic cameras and other surveillance feeds that a New York citizen walked or drove past daily. It was a disconcerting revelation for someone who doesn't age and hence tried to leave as little photographic evidence of his face as possible. Thankfully most of those surveillance videos seemed to be of appallingly bad quality.

“Of course I have no footage of him climbing out of the river and that guy on the bike picking him up - why should anyone want to point a camera at the river? - But when you saw them it must have been very shortly after they met up at the river because here” - Jo jumped to a different video file and, after consulting the notes on the piece of paper in front of her, a certain time, then pointed to a motorcycle with only a driver and no passenger. - “here he's still alone on his bike and heading towards the river.”

Henry leaned still closer, his nose nearly touching the screen.

“Are you sure it is the same one? There really aren't all that many identifying features when someone wears a helmet and bulky motorcycle clothes. I couldn't even tell you with any certainty if this were a man or a woman.”

Jo pulled him back when he went disturbingly cross-eyes and brought up the video of Adam on the bike again.

“It's the same bike, I'm sure of it. It's a BMW, middle price range I'd say but a nice machine for city driving. We've only seen it from the front so far so no licence plate but I am sure it's the same bike and the same driver.”

She pressed play and they watched Adam and his good Samaritan drive off screen. Jo clicked on the next file and found them again stopping at a red light and then, when it went green, driving off screen again.

“I've tracked them like this over quite a few cameras, about 45 minutes of driving time, until they stopped at a burger place.”

She changed videos again, this time the bike was seen turning left onto a parking lot then vanished from the screen again.

Henry pulled out a map from his coat pocket and spread it out as well as he could in the closed quarters. He refolded it so it mainly showed the streets around the river. He'd already marked the spot where he had encountered Adam with an X at home. Now Henry moved his finger along the street they had taken then looked up questioningly at Jo.

“So which streets did they use, exactly?”

Jo took out a pen and, starting at the X, drew a line along the streets, following the trail she'd reconstructed via the camera footage. She drew a circle around the restaurant they had stopped at.

“This place doesn't have video surveillance, I fear, but they spent about half an hour in there then” - she switched to the next file again - “ they drove off again. I've tracked them for about another half hour of driving time but then there are quite a few cameras that weren't working on that day and I've lost them.”

Jo brought up the last video she had found that showed the bike with it's two passengers then took up the pen again to complete marking their route on the map. She drew a circle around the intersection the last video footage was from.

“This is where I lost them. And all the cameras in these five blocks were down because of an electrical fire. They were going straight across the intersection and I couldn't find them on any of the cameras after our black out zone so their destination should have been somewhere in this general area.”

She drew a square around the five blocks where the cameras had been down then drummed her fingers against the table.

“It's mostly apartment blocks and a few hotels around there. So I am guessing that either they went to wherever our biker friend lives, to an apartment Adam owns somewhere around there, or they checked into a hotel.”

Henry nodded and studied the map closely.

“There aren't all that many hotels but they seem to be of the four stars and more variety mostly so I think it would be more likely that they went to an apartment either of them owns. Also this is quite a good neighbourhood, the rent won't be cheap there, so either the good Samaritan is well to do or we're looking for somewhere Adam lives. Do we ever see the licence plate in any of your videos?”

Jo sighed and pointed to a short line of letters and numbers.

“Not clearly, I fear. I have a partial plate from one frame from the camera where they leave the parking lot. I'll see if I can't find a BMW bike with a plate that matches it but it will take a little time. In the meantime I'll try and find out where he came from when he drove to the river but I think we might get the results from the licence plate search sooner than I can track him God knows how far across the city.”

Henry nodded.

“But at least we have something. Maybe Montoya can come up with a few more of Adam's aliases, maybe even one under which he lives somewhere within this area.”

Jo's face darkened at the mention of the Spanish immortal.

“Are you sure it was a good idea to tell him about Adam? I still don't trust the guy. What if he finds Adam and then decides he'd rather have him for a buddy than you? And I won't even mention how many laws he's most likely breaking right now to get you those banking records.”

Henry shrugged. He had had those same concerns of course but they needed all the help they could get. So he had taken a leap of faith in telling Montoya about Adam and now all he could do was hope that Luis wouldn't betray him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for taking so long to update this. My muses had gone on strike and could not be persuaded to keep working on this. I hope anyone is still interested in reading it? Have a slightly longer chapter as compensation ^^'

Montoya told his driver to stop in front on the apartment building. It was one of five addresses for Adam’s various aliases the morally flexible computer genius had found for him. Stepping out of the car onto the side walk he debated with himself whether to call Henry and tell him about this. But Henry would only insist Montoya wait for him and his police woman when they didn’t even know if anyone would be home. It would all just be a colossal waste of everyone’s time. He told his driver to find somewhere to park and wait for him to call if he wasn’t back in five minutes. Then Luis hurried towards the house as a woman with a stroller struggling with the door gave him the perfect excuse to bypass being buzzed in. He thought it would be much better to show up unannounced.

According to his information Adam owned the penthouse, 20th floor, should have a rather nice view. Going by the part of town Montoya knew the other immortal must have paid quite a lot for that privilege. But going by his various bank accounts he could buy ten more and it wouldn't really make a dent. Not that anyone could call Montoya a pauper, his own bank accounts in various countries were very good security against hard times and he had gold and jewels in various safety deposit boxes but next to Adam he still looked like an amateur. It seemed 2000 years really did give one an edge as far as finances were concerned.

Stepping out of the elevator he straightened his cuffs and tie then walked purposefully up to the door. As he had learned in the military appearing confident and in charge was often much more important than your rank or actual power. More often than not people tended to be happy to follow rather than lead themselves. And when confronting a possible enemy any sign of weakness could lead to your death. Not that Montoya thought Adam would necessary be an enemy, should he even be here, but since the man was most like trying to lay low Luis doubted that he'd welcome visitors with open arms.

He pressed the button for the doorbell bemoaning the greater urgency door knockers used to convey when calling on someone. A melody of bells or a shrill ring just weren't the same as a brisk knock. He thought this particular doorbell might be playing “God save the Queen” but he might be wrong, the door was very thick and swallowed nearly all sound from within. As he was still straining his ears to catch any approaching footsteps the door was suddenly flung open and he found himself looking down the barrel of a handgun.

“Adam, I presume?”

  
  


\-------------

  
  


“He's still not answering his mobile phone. It keeps ringing and then goes to voice mail.” Henry put his own phone back into his pocket.

“I told you you shouldn't trust him, Henry. He's clearly up to something.” Jo was drumming her fingers against Henry's desk.

“Or he is in a meeting and turned the phone to silent. Or he's in the shower or somewhere else private.”

The thought of Montoya in the shower clearly didn't agree with Jo at all because she pulled a face like she'd just bitten into a lemon. Henry didn't even bother hiding his amusement.

Jo glared at him. “There is nothing even remotely funny about this situation.”

“I'm sorry, Jo. Maybe we should wait a few minutes and try again? Or we could call his office to see if he's there?”

Jo pulled over Montoya's business card Henry had put on the desk between them.

“I'll call his office, you try his cell again. And if we can't reach him within the next half hour or so I will somehow have someone trace his phone. We need this information about Adam's aliases, urgently, because the longer we take to find him the deeper he can go into hiding. And if Montoya doesn't give us that information we don't have the slightest chance of finding him. He could be anywhere in those five blocks of houses.”

The barely concealed anger in her voice put rather a bit of a dampener on Henry's good mood, understandably.

“I know, Jo, believe me I know. You stay here and use the land line to call his secretary, and I'll be out in the morgue trying his mobile phone again.”

Jo nodded and pulled the phone over as Henry got up and left the room. She gave him an apologetic smile as he walked past her and he knew she felt sorry for getting angry at him.

A few minutes later they hadn't got all that much farther in locating Montoya. He was still not answering his mobile phone and his secretary just told them that he had left the office and told her to reschedule his evening appointment because he would not be returning today. She refused to give them the number of his driver, or tell them what he had been doing before taking off so suddenly, unless they had a warrant.

“Now what?” Jo put the business card back onto the table with slightly more force than necessary.

Henry shrugged. “I doubt anyone would give us a warrant for that, or for tracking his phone. Have you found out who that motorcycle belonged to yet?”

“Hanson is babysitting the search for me, he said he'd call...speak of the devil.”

Jo fished her ringing phone out of her back pocket.

“We were just speaking of you, Mike. Oh, only good things, I promise.”

Henry leaned against the door frame and tried not to get his hopes up but he couldn't help but keep his fingers crossed that Hanson had actually found something useful. Listening to only one half of a telephone conversation could be frustrating sometimes, especially when the half he could listen to consisted mostly of silence and the occasional acknowledging noise.

Finally Jo spoke: “You're kidding me, right? No, I just didn't expect that. Yes, thank you, Mike, I owe you big time.”

Jo put the phone back into her pocket and turned to Henry with a grin.

“You're never going to guess who that bike belonged to.”

  
  


\-----------

  
  


“Come in, slowly, not one wrong move or I will shoot you.” The gun did not waver one inch from the centre of Montoya's forehead and the voice was hardly more than an angry hiss.

Montoya held up his hands to show he was not carrying a weapon then let the other man lead him inside.

With the gun pressed to Luis' chest the man, presumably the notorious Adam, thoroughly searched his unexpected guest and relieved him of his wallet, phone and the small knife he carried in his inside pocket.

He then steered Montoya through the open plan flat towards the dining table.

“Sit down.”

Montoya complied then watched his host rummage about in the kitchen, still keeping the gun and one eye on Montoya, until he found a package of zip ties.

Having tied Luis up expertly and securely the man finally put down his gun, though he kept it within easy reach and the safety off.

“Luis Ramirez Montoya”, he read from the credit cards in the pilfered wallet. “Who sent you here, Montoya? And how do you know my name?”

Luis went through a few different answers to that in his mind then decided it might be best to stick to the truth as much as possible.

“We have a friend in common, Dr. Farber, or should I call you Adam? Though I do not think we are well enough acquainted for that, do you?”

By the way the other man narrowed his eyes Luis decided he wasn't one for banter. People took things way too seriously sometimes.

“Enough with the prattle, who are we talking about here?”

“Well, Dr. Morgan of course. Though he did not send me here as such, he merely asked me to find out your address.”

Adam scoffed and picked up Luis' phone.

“I assure you, Dr. Morgan does not consider me a friend, nor can I consider him one. Did you tell him about this place?”

Just as Adam was about to see if he could go through the call log the screen lit up and showed an incoming call from 'Henry Morgan'.

Adam seemed about to answer it then merely put the phone aside and let it ring silently until it redirected to voice mail.

“Answer my question, Montoya. Did you tell Henry about this place?”

“Now, would you even believe it if I told you I did not? I came here to speak to you, in private, and telling Henry about it would have rather defeated that purpose, don't you think?”

“What reason could you have to want to speak to me?” Adam turned one of Montoya's cards over in his hand. “Do you want to sell me a house?”

“I'd rather thought we should speak about all the things you have learned in 2000 years about our condition.”

Luis watch as that _our_ slowly sunk in and Adam narrowed his eyes at him speculatively. Good, it seemed he had caught his interest there. Now how to best use that to his advantage?

  
  


\------------

  
  


No matter how hard he tried Bob just couldn't fully concentrate on his work today. He kept thinking about the last few days and about Dr. Farber. They had had an insightful but sadly too short conversation once they had reached Farber's pent house, and how the man could afford that place was one of the questions Bob had not dared ask.

But since Bob had an early shift the next day he could not stay as long as he would have liked so making Farber promise not to vanish on him for the next 24 hours Bob had taken his leave.

He was by now thinking it might have been better to call in sick, despite the way such a lie would have weighted on his conscience, than to be so distracted he nearly mixed up the charts of his patients and only just caught himself before prescribing contraception for Mr. Braun.

When he got up to see if there might be any coffee left at the nurses' station he saw Dr. Morgan and a woman he did not know hurrying towards him.

“Dr. Heller, Bob! Can I have a word with you? It is rather urgent.”

His heart beating in his throat and nerves making his hands feel unsteady Bob nodded and invited them into his office. How had they found out? _Had_ they found out? And what was he going to tell them?

 


	8. Chapter 8

“Can I offer you two anything? Terrible hospital coffee, worse hospital tea?” The weak smile clearly showed that Bob already knew his attempt at humour was going to fall flat.

“No, thank you, nothing for me”, Henry said at the same time as Jo's much more forceful reply of “How about some answers?”.

Bob looked at them like he wasn't sure if he should laugh or hide somewhere. Finally he just settled for sitting down behind his desk with it's stack of files, creating a small barrier between himself and his visitors. 

Henry took a seat as well while Jo remained standing, her arms crossed and her foot tapping angrily. 

“Answers? Well, sure, I don't know what I could possibly help you with but you are welcome to ask.”

“It's about Dr. Farber”, Henry began carefully. He found that staying as vague as possible usually made people say things they wouldn't say when asked directly.

“About his disappearance? I thought the police had already questioned everyone who was on duty in intensive care that day? I was in the emergency room, I only heard about the whole thing afterwards.”

“So you would of course have no idea where we could find Dr. Farber now, would you?” Jo sounded so sarcastic Henry thought he actually saw Bob flinch.

“No, of course I don't know. Wait, find _him_ , not his body? Do you actually think he's still alive? Because I fear he was very much dying before he went missing and without all the equipment here he would have no chance to survive even if his infection had somehow vanished over night.”

Henry leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and prop his chin up with his folded hands.

“Bob, I know he's alive. I saw you both, on your motorcycle, driving away from the river.”

He left it at that and watched Bob's face. The other man had gone perfectly still, like an animal sensing a predator and wondering whether it would be better to flee or to keep still and try to hide.

Finally Bob cleared his throat and said with a shaky smile: “Surely you are mistaken, there are many bikes in New York City...”

“We ran the plates, Dr. Heller, it was your bike. We really don't have time for your lies. Tell us where he is.” 

Jo had taken a few rapid steps until she was standing in front of the desk. Now she leaned forward aggressively, hands braced against the edge. Henry wished she had told him beforehand that they were going to play bad cop, good pathologist...

“I...you're not going to believe me, detective.” Bob finally said, his shoulders sagging in defeat under her merciless glare.

“Try me.”

“Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. He's alive, yes, but only because he can't die.”

He looked up at Jo with wide eyes, waiting for a reaction, waiting for laughter or anger or anything but her blank faced acceptance.

“Ok, go on. He can't die. How do you know?”

“You believe me?” A second later Bob narrowed his eyes suspiciously, first at Jo then at Henry. “You _knew_! You already knew that he's immortal! That's why you wanted to be informed about his condition.”

Then something else occurred to him and he pointed an accusing finger at Henry.

“You _knew_ and you _left him there_ , like that, suffering, _for months_! What kind of doctor are you that you can watch a patient suffer and do nothing? Can you even imagine what it must have been like for him? _Primum non nocere_ , Doctor Morgan.”

His anger had driven Dr. Heller to his feet as well and mirroring Jo's pose he leaned towards Henry.

“How could you? How could you come in here, pretend to be concerned about him, while you knew all along how you could have helped him? God knows I have sworn to save lives, not end them, but had I known from the beginning what I know now I would have pulled that plug.”

He fell back down into his chair and ran his hand through his hair. Whatever energy his sudden burst of anger had given him seemed to be used up. He just looked deadly tired now.

Before Henry could think of a good reply to these accusations Jo was already moving the interview along.

“Never mind how we knew, how did you know? How did you know where to go looking for him when he vanished when, as you just said, you didn't know he was immortal before it happened?”

Bob seemed to be having a short inner debate before answering. Either he was wondering how much he really should tell them or he was wondering what kind of lie they were most likely to believe. Henry was a bit surprised that he couldn't tell which one it was since in all the months he had known him Dr. Heller had always been an open book. He would even have sworn before today that the man couldn't lie if his life depended on it. 

“I didn't actually believe it myself before it happened. It was just a crazy story my grandfather used to tell about this man who was badly wounded, dying, and then just vanished before his eyes. _Just gone, poof, like he had never been there at all_ , grandfather said. And later he heard that the very same man had been arrested for indecent exposure because he had been swimming in the river naked just around the time when grandpa had watched him die and then vanish. And the most extraordinary thing was that there hadn't been a mark on the man, he had been in perfect health if a bit hypothermic, when seconds before he was bleeding to death.”

Bob shrugged, picked up a pen and began fiddling with it before setting it back down deliberately. Nervous habit, Henry wondered, or a tell that he was not telling them the truth?

“So my grandpa, being a curious kind of fellow, asked around. Turns out a few other people had witnessed similar things, mostly during different wars. But of course everyone thought that surely they couldn't have seen what they thought they had seen and so they kept quiet about it. The only people grandpa ever told were his wife and children and later his grandchildren. Of course we all thought he had been the victim of an elaborate hoax or maybe he had been on drugs, not that I actually think my grandfather would ever have taken drugs. But it was a nice story and he told it often. So when I heard that my patient, who was only hours if not minutes away from dying of pneumonia had mysteriously vanished it reminded me of this story. My shift was over anyway so I grabbed some scrubs and decided to drive along the river. I was feeling foolish for even doing it but then there stood Dr. Farber, completely healed, naked and wet. So I picked him up and drove him home.”

Bob finished his story with a sigh and waited for their reactions. Henry still wasn't sure if all of it had been an outright lie but he was positive that it hadn't been the complete truth.

“Where did you take him, Bob? It's important that we find him as quickly as possible.”

Dr. Heller narrowed his eyes again. “Give me one good reason why I should tell you. You  _tortured_ him.”

“I did not torture him. It was … it's a long story, Bob, and I swear I will tell you but right now we don't have the time. Adam, Dr. Farber, is a very dangerous man, he has threatened me, he has threatened Jo and other people who are important to me. It is imperative that we find him now, before he can go deeper into hiding, and before he can hurt anyone else. I fear a friend of mine may have found him already but I can not reach him and I fear he's gone to confront Adam on his own. Please, Bob, help me find him before it's too late.”

The suspicion did not vanish from Bob's face but at least he did not immediately tell Henry to go to hell.

“My shift ends in 10 minutes. I can drive there and tell him that you want to talk to him and I can see if your friend is there.”

Jo shook her head. “That will only give him time to flee. Just tell us where he is. Or I could arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

Going by Bob's unimpressed face he saw that threat for the empty one it was. Jo would never want anything related to immortals to become common knowledge so she could hardly arrest someone for hiding a dead man who was actually immortal. 

“I don't know what Adam told you, Bob, and I am sure he was nothing but courteous towards you when you rescued him, but I swear he is a cold blooded murderer and not worthy of your protection. Don't let him make you an accomplice in whatever crimes he will commit now that he's free again.”

Henry tried to convey as much honesty and worry in these words and in his expression as he could. He knew they had no way to force Bob to tell them where Adam was and now that he knew he might be followed Bob wouldn't take the risk to go back to Adam today. The only chance they had was convincing Dr. Heller that it would be in the best interest of everyone if he told them. 

Bob looked at the clock on the wall then rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I'm not getting rid of you unless I tell you, am I?”

“We'll stick to you like sticking plaster, all day and all night if we have to.” Jo gave him her best no-nonsense-cop-stare that promised she would literally follow him 24/7 if she had to. 

Sighing again Bob finally gave in. “Fine, I'll tell you, but only if you give me time to shower, get a cup of coffee from somewhere that's not here and take me along when you go there. Otherwise I'm not telling you anything.”

Henry saw Jo was about to protest but he was sure that they would get no further compromises from Bob. “Done. I'll even buy your coffee while you shower and get changed. We can drive in Jo's car and you can give her directions.” The men shook on it before Bob left the office to hand over the ward to the doctor coming in for the next shift and then head to the shower. 

“This is a bad idea, Henry”, Jo groaned as Henry got up to find a coffee place somewhere in walking distance.

“It's all we have, Jo, we'll just need to make the best out of it. Maybe having Bob there when we confront Adam can be a good thing?” Henry realised he was most likely being way too optimistic. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There will be a tiny bit of Spanish happening near the end of this chapter. I'll put a translation in the end notes and in those floaty boxes that appear when you put your mouse over the words.  
> I want to thank a very good friend on twitter who helped me with the Spanish since all I have is very little knowledge of the language and online translators.

„What exactly do you mean by 'our condition'?“ Eyes narrowed suspiciously Adam dropped the business cards he had been fiddling with and moved his hand closer to the gun again.

“Finding ourselves unable to stay dead”, Luis replied calmly. “Though I have no idea how or why, whether it is a curse or a blessing, after I died 200 years ago I never stay dead. Henry told me the same happened to him, and to you.”

Hand moving still closer to the gun and one finger tapping the table Adam stayed quiet for a while.

“Are you trying to play me? Pretending to be something you're not?”

Fast as a striking snake he picked up the gun and aimed at Montoya's chest again. “Shall we put your claim to the test?”

“And what good will that do you? If you send me to the river now, it will only cost us time we could spend talking instead . Also, what kind of a start to our relationship would that be?”

Adam eyed the other man silently, searching for any tiny sign of duplicity, any bit of nervousness or weakness and finding only calmness and cold resolve instead. He put the gun down again.

“And what kind of _relationship_ did you have in mind?”

Luis shrugged as much as he could with his hands tied to the chair.

“Business, social, whatever would benefit us both. We both have resources and contacts, in business and other, less legal areas, that could benefit the other. You have experience, vastly more than anyone else in this world. And whichever course you plan to take in this little feud you have with Henry, I can be of assistance there as well.”

Adam scoffed.

“Assistance? What could I possibly need you for? I can deal with Henry.”

“And by deal you mean terrify him into attacking you again? You should have heard how he spoke about you, he made you out to be a demon straight from the fiery pits of hell and yet that is not what I found when I got here.”

Adam pushed away from the table angrily and went to the kitchen to get something to drink. Montoya didn't let that discourage him, he merely talked louder.

“I see not a monster but a desperate man. You have been alone for 2000 years and now, that you've finally found someone else like you, you have completely forgotten how to go about getting to know him. All you did was frighten him and anger him.”

Glaring at Montoya Adam came back with a glass of some amber coloured spirit in hand.

“Who are you to judge me?”

“I am not judging you. All I am saying is that I can help you. I can be your intermediary, if you want, I can speak to Henry on your behalf and to you on his.”

“I don't need an _intermediary_!”

“Oh? And what is your alternative? Going back to stalking him, alienating him even more? Or to run away like a coward?”

After draining the glass in one gulp Adam set it down hard on the table then leaned over Montoya threateningly.

“I am not a coward. You have no idea of the things that have been done to me over 2000 years. There is nothing left for me to be afraid of because I have seen it all, _been through_ it all.”

Luis still wouldn't let the other immortal frighten him, after all what was the worst that could happen? But if he played his cards right he might well come out of this with much more than just avoiding a painful death.

“True as that might be your situation with Henry was still something you clearly weren't prepared for. I have no quarrel with you, Adam, and I have no interest in getting between you and Henry in any way, quite the contrary. I may not have been alone for 2000 years but even after 200 I know how extraordinary it is to find someone else like yourself. And I have absolutely no intention of being caught in the crossfire when your situation with Henry inevitably boils over.”

When Adam sat down again Luis thought he might finally be getting somewhere here. At least the other immortal seemed to have calmed down again somewhat. So he continued, using his best persuading voice. It had always worked well on the recalcitrant Dons in Santa Helena, why shouldn't it work on a 2000 year old Roman?

“We are all sitting in the same boat, as the saying goes, no? Shouldn't we work together instead of trying to sink the boat? For, after all, what can the results of this war between you two be but to expose all of us to the world? And then what might they do to us? Humanity does not have the best track record when it comes to dealing with things they don't understand.”

Having made his point to his satisfaction Luis fell silent and waited for Adam's reaction. At first all his fellow immortal did was stare at him some more before he suddenly took Montoya's knife from the table, opened it and cut the zip ties binding him to the chair.

“Fine, Montoya, I am willing to give you a chance but I'm warning you, if you lied to me or try to cross me you will regret that you ever sought me out. Immortality can indeed be a curse and I will make sure to demonstrate that excessively should you turn on me.”

Rubbing some feeling back into his numb hands Luis nodded. “Understood, and believe me I am well aware you have the ability to live up to those threats.”

“Good. Now, how exactly do you propose to play intermediary between Henry and me?”

  
  


\---------

Checking behind himself to make sure the corridor was still empty Bob hurried towards the fire exit. His hair was still wet and he hadn't put on his jacket yet. Clutching jacket and helmet in one hand he pushed open the door with the other then closed his eyes briefly against the bright daylight outside.

He had indeed gone off to shower, as he had told Henry and the policewoman but he had had no intention of going back to the two of them afterwards. So hastily throwing on his clothes and without even drying his hair he had gone to the closest fire exit which would also bring him out of the hospital closest to his bike.

Looking behind himself again and staying close to the wall he rounded the corner to the bike area of the employee parking lot only to stop dead in his tracks with a groan and let his arms hang down in defeat.

The policewoman, he thought her name was Jo, was leaning against his bike and smirking at him.

“You'll have to try harder than this to sneak out under my watch, Doc. I catch criminals for a living, remember? Now, will you come with me to my car quietly or will you make me chase you down and handcuff you first?”

Bob sighed and held up his hands.

“No chasing will be necessary, detective, mostly because I am way too tired to run. Where did you park your car then?”

  
  


\----------

  
  


“Are you sure this is the right place?” Jo and Henry stared up at the quite expensive looking house Bob had directed them to. “Can Adam really afford to live here?”

Bob just shrugged. “It's where I brought him after he died and he knew where the key was hidden so I assume it's his place.”

“We might as well take a look.”

Jo stalked over towards the door and rang a few of the door bells at random. When someone asked who they were she said “I have a package for Mrs. Singh” and they were buzzed in.

“That was easy. So much for security ...” Bob remarked and shook his head.

They took the elevator to the top floor and quietly made their way towards the door Bob indicated. The lock was rather too sophisticated to be picked with a bobby pin so Jo drew her gun and kicked it in without warning.

Bob and Henry shot each other identical shocked looked before following her inside.

Henry wasn't quite sure what he had expected to find but it very much had not been Adam and Luis sitting companionably at the table drinking what, from the label on the bottle, looked to be expensive Scotch.

And going by the way Montoya jumped out of his seat and eyed them with alarm he hadn't expected to be caught doing so either. Then his eyes moved behind Henry towards Bob and his hand nearly brushed his glass off the table when he took a few confused steps forward.

“ _¡Cielos, Robert! ¿Cómo puedes estar aquí?_ ” Henry didn't think he'd ever actually seen Montoya lose his composure but right now he looked like he couldn't believe his eyes.

“ _¿_ _Cómo crees? Y ahora me llamo 'Bob'._ ” If the grin on Bob's face got any wider Henry feared he'd do himself irreparable damage.

“ _¿_ _Bob?_ ¡ _Qué tremandamente inglés!_ ”

“ _Cállate, Coronel._ ” To Henry's surprise Bob actually closed the gap between them with a few quick steps and pulled Montoya into a tight hug. Montoya still looked slightly shell shocked but after a second returned the hug before carefully disentangling himself.

He reached up instead and put a hand to Bob's cheek as if he was still not quite sure the other man was not just a hallucination.

“ _Te he extra_ _ñado_.”

“ _Apuesto a que nunca pensaste que dirías eso, Montoya._ ”

“Ok, stop, enough, you can flirt later. We have more important things to talk about right now.”

Jo had been the first to regain her composure after this very unexpected turn of events. She calmly raised her gun at Adam just as he grabbed his own gun off the table.

“Which one of us do you think is faster, detective?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> “Heavens, Robert, how can you be here?”  
> “How do you think? And my name is 'Bob' now.”  
> “Bob? How terribly English.”  
> “Shut up, Colonel.”  
> “I have missed you.”  
> “I bet you never thought you'd say that, Montoya.”

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know if you're interested in me continuing this :)


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